


His Angel

by anotherfngrl



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Light BDSM, M/M, Massage, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Non-Sexual Kink, Non-Sexual Submission, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24173074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherfngrl/pseuds/anotherfngrl
Summary: Aziraphale tries to rush into trouble. His demon is having none of it, and in spanking the impulse right out of him, shows his angel just how good simple touch can make him feel. Aziraphale's a sub, he just doesn't know it yet.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 115





	His Angel

“You will not!” Crowley yelps, grabbing Aziraphale and pulling him back.

“The humans!” Aziraphale cries.

“This isn’t even one of mine. You’ll be disincorporated if you try to step in. You have to let them fight their own battles sometimes, Angel,” Crowley tells him gently. However unmoved he is by human suffering, he isn’t fond at all of seeing Aziraphale upset.

Aziraphale cries, “No!” and tries to rush forward again. Crowley holds him back, and the angel struggles, actually  _ biting _ him in his desperation.

“Damn it!” Crowley groans. “That’s enough!” He swats Aziraphale hard on the backside.

The angel jumps. “Ouch! What sort of unholy attack was that?” He does calm down some, however, so Crowley counts the action as a success and resolves to repeat it, multiple times, on a much less well protected backside just as soon as he gets the angel alone.

“I believe the humans are calling it spanking. Some do it for sex, others to punish children,” he explains.

“Sex with children? How horrible! Surely you can’t condone such a thing?” Aziraphale demands.

“Two separate forms, Angel,” Crowley tells him. “Even I have standards.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay, then. So adults like it and children do not?” he asks, smoothing out his waistcoat. Crowley has not let go of his upper arm.

“Seems to be the way of it. Though I think some of that’s how it’s applied. What did you think?” Crowley asks.

“Horrid,” Aziraphale reports. “Stung badly.” He tries to shake off the demon’s arm.

“I let go of you, are you going to try to run at them again?” Crowley asks. Aziraphale’s gaze slides away. “That’s what I thought.” He doesn’t release the angel’s arm.

Aziraphale pouts at him. “Have you tried a miracle?” Crowley asks. He has, and his made no dent, but maybe magic from the higher power instead of the lower one would work.

“Several times. Perhaps because their intentions are low, one of yours would do the trick?” the angel asks winningly.

“Already tried,” Crowley says.

Aziraphale looks startled. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate you looking so…” Crowley gestures, trying to encompass the angel’s dejection.

“Maybe if I get closer,” Aziraphale says, attempting to use Crowley’s gesture as leverage to slip his grip.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Crowley says, turning toward the angel and using momentum to tip him over his shoulder. He carries the other man away from the ruckus, back to the rooms he’s letting at the moment, ignoring the angel’s yelling and pounding fists as he walks.

He rights Aziraphale in his bed chamber, standing facing the unexpectedly red-faced angel. “How dare you?” Aziraphale demands.

Crowley glares. “I believe you’re the one who told me we should leave alone the things miracles can’t touch. My theory is that with so many of them wanting to cause harm for so many different reasons, our miracles couldn’t make a dent in the trouble.”

“Perhaps if I could’ve spoken to them,” Aziraphale suggests.

“Before or after they disincorporated you?” Crowley challenges.

“I might’ve been able to help.” The angel is pouting, now. Somebody- God or Lucifer or his freaking landlady Cindy- save him from sulky angels.

“You tried. You couldn’t. I got you out of there still attached to your body,” Crowley summarizes. “And now we’re going to have a discussion about throwing yourself into danger and  _ biting _ me when I try to stop you.”

Aziraphale has the grace to look ashamed about that, at least. “I lost sight of my manners,” he says. “I do hope you aren’t injured?”

“I’ll be fine. Tough hide and all that,” Crowley assures him. “Speaking of, did you know another name the humans use for spanking is ‘a good hiding’? Because that’s what I’m thinking you need,” he says threateningly.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whimpers.

“You’re not going around getting yourself disincorporated, and you’re not biting me when I’m trying to save you. We’re a team, Angel, whether you like it or not, and that gives me some say in your continued existence,” Crowley tells him bluntly, trying to make it sound nonchalant, as if the idea of his angel disincorporated didn’t make his skin feel too small. It’s  _ an _ end, even if it isn’t  _ the _ end, and he doesn’t wish to see Aziraphale meet any kind of end. Least of all because the angel was being an idiot.

“I won’t do it again?” Aziraphale hazards, making it sound like a question.

“Not after the thrashing you’re about to get, you won’t,” Crowley assures him, taking the angel’s wrist and pulling him toward the bed. He sits and pins the angel between his legs so he can work at removing his lower clothing. “You wear too many fussy clothes.”

“You being able to remove them was not one of the things I considered when I selected this outfit,” Aziraphale tells him faintly.

Finally, Crowley has the angel bent over his knee, bare, white backside smudged with just a hint of pink from the swat he’d given him on the street. “Alright,” he announces, “Here’s how this is going to go. I’m going to thrash you, and you are  _ not going to do it again,” _ he orders, his voice sterner than he’s ever heard it.

With no further ado, he begins spanking. He doesn’t put his full strength into it, but enough, and the angel’s white cheeks flatten with each impact of his palm, springing back with new pink embellishment. Eventually, he’s pink all over, and each spank deepens the lovely color. Aziraphale may like soft tones, but Crowley prefers life vivid, and he takes a strange pleasure in bringing the color to life on his angel’s obstinate bottom.

Though obstinate is perhaps not the right word, at the moment. Aziraphale isn’t protesting the punishment- he’s not moving around or attempting to convince Crowley to stop. But as the spanking continues, he does begin to make breathless little noises, whimpering occasionally.

By now, Aziraphale’s skin is a vivid pink, darkening to red, and every swat leaves a white handprint for an instant before darkening. Crowley keeps spanking just to see the angel change colors. There’s something soothing about it, about seeing his vivid handprints on his angel’s pale flesh, knowing Aziraphale is here over his lap, safe where he can keep him under control.

Aziraphale’s little noises are accompanied by tiny movements, now. Little flinches he’s obviously trying to control. Crowley tells him, “You’ve probably learned your lesson, by now, but I’m going to keep spanking you a while, yet. Because you made me worry about you, angel, and I  _ do not _ like imagining you injured or disincorporated.”

He gives the angel over his knee a real wallop to cement that statement, and Aziraphale yelps. That seems to be the first crack in his stoicism, and now he’s whining near continuously. Crowley continues spanking lazily, experimenting with the way slapping the low part of the angel’s cheeks at an angle makes the flesh ripple, and makes him whine. He quite likes it, so he does it over and over for a few minutes, as the angel’s noises become increasingly desperate.

Finally, he decides his angel’s had enough. Aziraphale is making miserable little noises and moving like he’s fighting not to try to escape the spanks. Crowley is proud of him for submitting to his discipline, and decides to tell him so. “You were a very good angel for me, Aziraphale,” he says, running his fingers lightly across the reddened cheeks.

The angel surprises him by pushing up into the touch. “Oh, do you like that?” Crowley asks.

Aziraphale makes a desperate noise. Crowley rubs him again.

“Much nicer than more spankings, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Yes…. quite. It feels… I cannot describe it,” Aziraphale says thickly. He sounds overcome.

Crowley quite likes it. “Are you going to be a good boy for me, now?” he asks, letting just the edges of his short nails scrape the reddened flesh on his next pass. Not a scratch, just a playful, light touch.

His angel  _ keens. _ “So good! I won’t… I won’t get disincorporated! I promise!” Aziraphale assures him.

“Good,” Crowley says, rubbing the red skin firmly. “Very good.” Aziraphale sighs and relaxes into his touch. Crowley smirks evilly. His angel can take just a few more. “Because if you do, I shall be very, very cross.” A vicious spank between each of the last three words. “And spank you very, very hard.” He repeats the pattern of three more hard swats, and his angel, completely unexpectedly, bursts into tears.

“Oh, love,” Crowley shifts himself under his angel, instead of trying to lift the other man, so they’re chest to chest, and hugs him. “I’m sorry, pet. I went too hard, didn’t I?” he asks.

“I thought you weren’t cross with me any more!” Aziraphale wails.

Now he’s done it. Crowley feels like an absolute heel. As the dominant, here, he knows he’s responsible for his angel’s wellbeing, even if said angel has no idea what they’re doing. Especially then.

“Shh, pet, I’m not. You’re okay, Angel, cry it out, no more spanks, I promise,” Crowley assures him, rubbing his back.

Aziraphale snuggles against him, sighing through the sporadic tears. Crowley just focuses on comforting him for now. He’ll make his angel’s body feel good once he’s taken care of his bruised feelings.

“Those were real spanks!” Aziraphale accuses. And they were, not like the lazy, playful ones he’d given his angel just because he could. Crowley had ended the punishment and switched to rubbing because his angel didn’t need any more. The last six hadn’t been about Aziraphale or what he needed, either to learn his lesson or to feel good. They’d been about Crowley losing himself a bit in how afraid for his angel he’d been.

“They were.They were punishment, after I told you it was over. I was frightened by the idea of your being harmed, and I gave in to that. I’m sorry, Angel,” Crowley tells him sincerely.

“Am I quite forgiven, now?” Aziraphale asks softly. “I’ll accept more spankings if not, even the real ones that hurt. I find I quite want to be forgiven,” he tells the demon uncertainly.

“Absolutely forgiven, Angel. No tricks, I promise. That wasn’t meant to be, anyway, I got a little upset remembering you could’ve been hurt,” Crowley assures him, kissing Asiraphale’s mussed hair.

“Mmmmm,” Aziraphale hums against him, snuggling close. He’s gone and dropped his angel into subspace, or something like it. He hadn’t expected it, at all. He’d mostly been focused on teaching his friend a lesson, and hadn’t considered the consequences. He’s been told he has ‘delightfully toppy energy’ when he’s feeling powerful- the beautiful blond thing in his arms has responded to it instinctively.

Aziraphale stretches against him demandingly, like a cat. “Rub my bottom some more?” he requests. “It was…” the angel blushes, struggling for words, “quite delightful.”

“I’ll rub your pretty bottom as much as you want. Like this, or should I sit back up so I can see what I’m doing?” Crowley offers, though he’s quite enjoying having his angel pressed against him.

“Stay,” Aziraphale demands. The pushy bottom pushes his bottom up, shaking it a little to remind him of his new task.

“Careful shaking that,” Crowley growls playfully, “Or you might get some nice smacks. Those aren’t punishment ones, and I’ll hand them out for fun if you tempt me.”

The angel shivers once, pressing against him with the force of it, then deliberately wiggles his bottom one more time. Crowley raises an eyebrow. Like that, is it?

He lets go of the angel and uses one hand on each side to give both cheeks a little stinger of a smack, barely half a second behind each other. Since he’s got both hands free, he can squeeze both of the newly spanked spots at once, kneading them like his angel would a loaf of bread. He spreads the reddened cheeks just a little, but doesn’t let his fingers dip inside. Not yet. His angel is a long way from ready for anything like that.

Aziraphale purrs at the attention, pressing his red bottom into Crowley’s hands. Crowley releases him, patting his bottom softly with one hand and using the other to stroke his back, gentling him. “Easy now, greedy one. I promised to rub your bottom as much as you wanted, and I am a demon of my word,” he assures his angel.

Aziraphale smiles up at him as he brushes his nails lightly across reddened skin once more. “This is the oddest feeling,” the angel says, apparently trying to snuggle further into Crowley’s arms and push his bottom more into the demon’s hands at the same time. He frowns adorably, trying to work out how to do both.

“What’ve you done to me?” the angel asks lightly. There’s no fear and no reproach in it, just easy curiosity. Aziraphale trusts him, clearly. This delightful situation could never have occurred, otherwise.

Crowley decides to live up to that trust. He could shock his angel with talk of sex dungeons and enjoy his horrified dismay, but in the long run it will be far more enjoyable to guide him through these new feelings gently, and let Aziraphale decide where they lead.

He squeezes Aziraphale’s nearest cheek softly as he says, “Remember I said adults sometimes enjoy a bit of spanking, though children do not?”

“I’ve felt both,” Aziraphale tells him. “At first, it was awful. I felt terrible for upsetting you, and being so foolish. Then you said I’d learned my lesson but you were going to keep spanking me anyway, and I cannot describe how I felt.”

Lucky for his angel, Crowley is a switch. “Like free falling, but completely controlled?” he asks.

“Yes. Controlled by you. And I didn’t mind, I quite liked it,” the angel reveals shyly.

“And when you feel safe letting someone else have control, for a few minutes, you naturally want to please them. That’s why those harder spanks upset you so badly. I could spank your pretty bottom raw right now, in a certain way, and you’d let me do it and beg for more. Or I could scold and reduce you to tears with a few little taps,” Crowley explains.

Aziraphale clings, and Crowley soothes him. “Not threatening, love, just explaining,” he promises. “When you stopped worrying about being in control, when you let me have it for a while, you got to focus more on how you feel. So you’re sensitive, and you can enjoy pure hedonistic pleasure. I thought you’d like this part.”

He works his hands up and down the red cheeks in his grasp, pressing and feeling the flesh give under his firm grip. His angel arches his back, letting out a satisfied, “Mmmmm.”

“The part you don’t like is when the person you’re trusting is unhappy with you. For the good things to be bigger, the bad things have to be, too. So it doesn’t feel nice at all to have me cross when you feel like that, does it?” Crowley asks.

Aziraphale shakes his head sadly. “It was absolutely terrible.”

“I knew you were enjoying the physical feelings, but I didn’t realize your mind was in on it too, or I wouldn’t have spanked you more,” Crowley says. “I apologize for that.”

“Quite alright, honest mistake,” the angel tells him. “You made me feel good again, after.”

The shy remark makes his angel blush as red as his bottom. Crowley grins, delighted. “Good. I’m glad. That’s what we want. For you to feel good.”

Aziraphale is a long way from being ready to do anything sexual with those feelings. He may never want that, and Crowley is quite okay with that possibility. Even this much of his friend’s sweetness is precious, and he’ll treasure whatever pieces of his submission the angel will grant him.

“Thank you,” his angel tells him sweetly, the perfect picture of submissive beauty. Crowley can’t help it, he kisses his forehead. “This is very nice for me, but why do you enjoy it?” Aziraphale asks.

“There’s a different sort of pleasure in getting to make you feel good, and the pure sensory delight of your skin in my hands,” Crowley tells him. It’s clearly never occurred to his innocent angel what else people might want out of this, and Crowley adores how pure he is. “I’ve been where you are- both are nice, in different ways.”

Aziraphale considers this. “Can I be the one to touch you, some time?” It’s a positively adorable, entirely innocent way of asking to switch, and Crowley loves it even before he adds, “I want to make you feel nice, too.”

“You sure you don’t just want to give me a good spanking?” Crowley teases.

“Maybe the kind that feels good,” the angel agrees. Crowley tries not to shiver at the possibility. Stretched out over his angel’s lap, being wrecked by those careful hands… he thinks he would enjoy that, indeed.

“We can try it, some time,” he allows. “Not today.”

“No,” Aziraphale agrees, “I don’t think I want to be in charge of anything today.” He stretches out further across Crowley, who decides he should get his angel comfortable.

Except when he goes to lift him up, Aziraphale grabs his shirt, resisting. “No!” he demands, “You promised to rub my bottom as long as I wanted.”

Nonplussed, Crowley continues with his plan. Aziraphale lets go with one hand, and  _ punches him in the chest. _ It’s a light punch, an expression of disapproval, not an attempt to harm. It’s absolutely adorable to see the angel let himself go so completely. It’s also not going to stand. He’s going to spoil his angel rotten if he’s not careful, just because he’s so sweet, and Crowley’s afraid he’s got a grade A brat on his hands. Brats, he’s been given to understand, need and want a lot of spankings.

So he takes both of the angel’s hands in his own, coaxing his friend to look at him. “I did promise that, and I meant it. But your tight jacket isn’t very comfortable, and I thought we’d get you comfy so you don’t wrinkle your clothes or overheat,” he explains.

Aziraphale sees the sense in this plan and tries to sit up to comply, but Crowley still has a grip on his hands. “Then,” he continues, “I’m going to spank that pretty bottom some more.” Aziraphale’s lower lip quivers, and he assures him, “I’m not angry, Angel, but you’re not going to punch at me to get your way. So these won’t be the really hard punishment spanks from earlier, but they’re going to sting going down. Lucky you, I know how to make a stingy bottom feel  _ very _ nice after.”

He releases the angel’s hands then, waiting to see what he’ll say or do. If he’s distressed, Crowley isn’t going to spank him. It’s that simple. This is training, not punishment, and distress isn’t how he wants to train this submissive- pleasure is.

Aziraphale looks nervous but intrigued as he reaches back to feel his own bottom. “Can’t you make  _ this  _ stingy bottom feel nice? You don’t have to sting me worse first,” he tries, winningly.

“Oh, I know I don’t. But I’m looking forward to it,” he tells his beautiful angel, sitting up with him and helping him out of the rest of his clothes. Aziraphale pushes hopefully at Crowley’s own jacket, and he takes it off, as well as his vest. He’d pushed his sunglasses up when they came inside, and he lays those on the nightstand as well.

Aziraphale folds up their clothes, setting them neatly aside, then comes back to stand beside him, where Crowley is still sitting on the bed. The angel is unashamed to be nude in front of him, which Crowley loves, though he is clearly a little apprehensive about more spanks.

“Remember,” he tells his angel, taking his hands again, “These aren’t punishment, just a lesson. And you’re going to feel very, very nice when I’m done with you, even if you sting for a little while first.”

He helps Aziraphale settle gently over his thighs, pushing him a bit more forward this time, so he can include the very tops of his thighs in his ‘lesson’. The crest of each cheek, where Aziraphale had gotten those extra, hard spanks at the end, is lightly purple with the possibility of bruising, so he’ll be spanking lower, this time, in all the most sensitive places.

He spends a few minutes just rubbing and talking. “You have such a pretty, soft bottom,” he tells his angel. “I’ve always said you should wear a bit more color, and this is a color I really like on you.” He cups one cheek gently, jiggling it just a little, then repeats the process with the other. “Maybe that’s what we’ll do- you keep wearing your whites and creams and when I want to see you in a bit more color, I’ll paint it onto your bottom.”

He’s trying to reinforce the idea of spanking just because, not as punishment. Because he quite likes the feeling of his angel’s bottom heating up under his hand, and he thinks Aziraphale likes it too, under the right circumstances. But that bobble with the extra punishment spanks has shaken his angel a little, and he needs reassurance now.

“Such a pretty bottom,” he repeats, stroking gently. “And so sensitive.” He traces his fingers lightly across the lowest edge of the spanked redness, barely touching. Aziraphale tenses with the effort of not pushing up into it. “And very good job, staying in place,” he adds, giving him the firmer stroke he wants in reward.

“Your skin feels so nice, hmm? I enjoy touching you,” he praises his angel, smiling at the sigh. “And you turn such pretty colors when I spank,” he says, a gentle warning.

Aziraphale doesn’t tense up or try to plead- he just lies there, waiting. He’s relaxed and ready, Crowley decides, and begins spreading light little spanks across his sensitive spots. He pauses liberally to rub in between at first, gradually picking up the speed of the spanks and rubbing less and less until he’s just spanking, fast and lightly, his hand barely moving as it rises and falls all over his angel’s soft cheeks.

The beautiful flesh quivers under his touch, warming for his fingers and welcoming- nay, inviting! more slaps. He reminds himself that Aziraphale is new at this and gradually slows down, not wanting to overwhelm his angel. He begins adding soft little rubs after some of the spanks again, and Aziraphale purrs.

He’s a bright, cheerful red now, and Crowley smiles. “All mine,” he says, satisfied, and is surprised to hear himself say it.

Aziraphale doesn’t protest. Crowley has thought of the other man as ‘his angel’ for a very long time, but it’s not exactly something one goes around declaring. He’s pleased to receive no objections today.

Crowley is just stroking, now, running his hands ever so lightly across the red-stained skin. Aziraphale pushes up into his touch and he pulls back, giving him a little spank in the middle of his bottom. “Naughty,” he chides softly. “I know it feels nice, but you need to lay there and let me make you feel good. I promise I have a plan.”

“Sorry,” the angel says quietly. He’s still so beautifully sensitive.

“All forgiven,” Crowley assures him, patting the spot he spanked. Aziraphale sighs happily.

Crowley gives him a few more minutes of light touches, then slides out from under his angel and tugs him a little more toward the center of the bed. A tiny miracle has his hands slick with warm oil, and he begins working it into the reddened cheeks, using long strokes he carries down Aziraphale’s thighs. The firm strokes are exactly what his angel wants after the teasingly light ones, and he dissolves into boneless goo.

Once he’s worked every drop of tension from his angel’s legs, Crowly gives him one long, firm stroke upward from his ankles to his cheeks with the flat of his hand. This time, he takes his strokes upwards, working at the small of his angel’s back. He’s unexpectedly tense there, and he groans happily when the demon releases the knots. He continues, not shying away from where Aziraphale’s wings are but giving the area special attention, knowing how sensitive it is. He’s fairly sure Aziraphale nearly brings his wings out by accident, it feels so good, and he leans back just in case. But the lovely sub controls himself, just lied he’d controlled the desire to push up into the stroking earlier, and Crowley is very pleased.

“You’re being so good for me,” he says, working the massage down Aziraphale’s arms.

“Uhmmmm,” his angel tells him, completely relaxed.

“Yeah, you’re thoroughly done. Nothing to do but snuggle you until you come ‘round, I suppose,” Crowley decides, sliding into the bed and pulling his angel to rest partially on top of him. Aziraphale manages to wrap his arms loosely around his demon’s waist, but that’s about all he’s capable of.

“You did beautifully. You are without a doubt the most exquisite thing I’ve ever touched,” Crowley tells him. “If you like, we’ll do this again soon- there are so many more things I can show you.”

Because BDSM doesn’t have to be about chains and whips. It doesn’t even have to be about sex. It can be about hedonism, and control. And he and Aziraphale are very, very good at those.


End file.
